"Achilles, you didn't."
This couldn’t be happening.
"I'm sorry, Pat. I'm so sorry."
"Call your grandmother and we'll sort it out," reasoned out Patroclus. There had to be a way around this.
Achilles hesitated, biting his lip.
"She bought the tickets already."
“We’re going tomorrow.”
"It seemed to be a spur of the moment thing for her. She was really excited,” continued Achilles, not seeming to notice that he had interrupted.
Achilles was looking anywhere in the kitchen but at him, his green, catlike eyes dodging Patroclus’ disbelieving gaze. "She's like that, you know."
Patroclus groaned. He felt despair settle deep inside him as he stared at the forgotten groceries on the table. He should really put the milk in the fridge.
But how could he when he had come home to this terrible news? When Achilles had done the unthinkable?
He breathed in, feeling a bit dizzy. They weren’t even in a relationship. They were only friends; best friends, yes, and quite close to each other, but still, just friends.
There must be a god, he thought fazedly, who wanted to make his life a living hell. Who wanted him to go to Greece, face Achilles’ grandparents’ and tell them he was Achilles’ boyfriend.
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